


Song of the lady wolf

by Sage105



Series: Lady wolf [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: AU, Can anyone think of anything I’ve missed, F/F, I love OCs, I think the idiots in love tag is pretty good here, M/M, Multiple Universes, Persistent humans, The Wolfpack - Freeform, emotionally constipated Wichers as usual, female Wichers, hello canon now fuck off so I can have some fun, which are alternative universe kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sage105/pseuds/Sage105
Summary: Soren had never really cared about that much aside from her sisters, being a  Whitcher  didn’t really leave a lot of room for such useless things as healthy relationships and sentimentality. She had made it out alive because of a freak accident, getting to the Village at the foot of the mountains later than usual because of a freak snowstorm. She honestly wasn’t sure how the angry humans And their chaos wielding companions had missed her, but it didn’t matter in the end.Her plan was simply to just end them all, all of the bastards that had slaughtered her sisters and destroyed her home, only then would she be allowed to die. Unfortunately for Soren, solar eclipses and desperate sorcerers make for rather unstable portals.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Soren OC/Lane Oc, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Lady wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866817
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. Last of the pack

**Author's Note:**

> OK various lovers of the Witcher fandom. Here is my humble contribution to this insane world. just as a heads up I haven’t written that much fanfiction and if you’re expecting canon compliance you best click that back button right now.
> 
> Personally I love writing me some OC characters and I’m a little bit irritated at the Witcher world for being like yeah no girls allowed because of… I’m not sure if there’s a canon reason or not I am mostly a product of the Netflix series. Anyway have fun reading my craziness and constructive criticism is definitely welcome.
> 
> Also as another note, no beta reader. I am blind and use a screen reader to write and edit all of this fun stuff so there may be some pretty strange typos and feel free to point them out to me. enjoy!!!

Oh no you don't you son of a bitch!"

CursingSoren threw herself headfirst into the portal, Rolling gracefully to her feet on the other side. The thrice Damned mage was still running, but was thrown off his feet with a well timed blast of aard. He flew through the air like a ragdoll, before crashing none too gently into a tree and falling to the ground in a heap.

"This is for my sisters you miserable bastard!" Soren roared, sturdy boots eating up the ground between predator and prey with the swiftness of her schools name sake. "Prepare to die!"

"Please have mercy the sorcerer begged dragging himself to his feet with shaking limbs. 

For a split second Soren hesitated. Is this what they would want? Lena, Esther, Gwen, would Master Vivian want her to...?

Seeming to since her moment of insecurity the sorcerer made the choice for her, raising hands crackling with chaos. She would've been tossed halfway across the clearing they ended up in if not for the quick quen shield she threw up, as it was Soren was able to spread her stance and hold her ground, lips pulling back into a feral snarl as the golden light of the shield dissipated. "You know the deal you disgusting piece of shit! Steel for humans and silver for monsters. I think silver should do the trick quite nicely don't you think?"

Without preamble she decapitated the man with one swift swipe of the blade in her hand, watching in morbid satisfaction as his body and head hit the ground at separate times. Sighing Soren bent down to wipe the blood off of her blade with his clothes, afterwords liberating his coin purse and walking away.

He was the last one she realized suddenly, sheathing her blade. Her fellow wolves could rest easy now, The crumbling stones of the demolished Kaer Morhen their grave marker. Soren had expected to feel relief upon completion of her self appointed task, but she only felt Hollow. No amount of blood could bring them back after all. Soren allowed herself to wander aimlessly for a while, locating a large tree With thick foliage that shaded her from the sun. "Well... I guess this is as good a place as any."

With care Soren removed the two swords strapped to her back, leaning them side-by-side against the trunk of the tree. Her armor soon joined her blades, organized in a neat pile as always. Upon being left in nothing but her trousers and shirt, Soren pulled a vial full of black liquid from her belt and studied it. For a moment she closed her eyes, gathering her self before uncorking the vile and downing the contents in a Single, practiced motion.

"This isn't too bad of a place!" She thought, sprawling out on her back amongst the smell of damp earth and growing things, "Actually it's kind of a nice place to die."

Soren brought one hand up to cover her medallion and smiled, studying The green leaves above her, broken through with patches of blue sky. "See you soon little sister!"

Soren didn't even try to fight the feeling as she slowly slipped into unconsciousness.


	2. A new path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to her surprise and consternation, Soren wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is I dear readers, returning with another chapter. Just so you know I’m sitting here dictating this into my phone while at The sword point of a very pissed off lady Witcher. lena says hello by the way.
> 
> Anyway sorry this has taken me so long to update, school started and I got majorly distracted. Also thank you all for the comments and kudos it is much appreciated.
> 
> Tiny warning of slight and very non-graphic suicidal ideation at the end of this chapter, just a heads up.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and… Lena! Quit growling at me and go take your anger issues out on some bloody Drowners or something.

Slowly Soren once more became aware of her surroundings, the ticklish sensation of grass blades brushing against the bear skin of her arms, the smell of a forest at night, and The Sound of a heartbeat that was much faster than her own. It belonged to a human she realized, distant alarm bells ringing in her mind. Having a human this near while she was so addled was not a good thing, although her thoughts were too sluggish to provide any sort of explanation why.

"Oy Whitcher! Are you awake?"

The Voice was like a splash of cold water on her skin, abruptly pushing her body into motion. She reached for swords that were no longer where she had left them, even as her surroundings tilted strangely and her extra sensitive eyes screamed as too much light invaded them all at once

"Oh bloody hell! Take it easy now!"

Cold hands pressed gently into her shoulder and hip, guiding her uncooperative body to its side just in time for a wave of nausea to crest, toxic stomach contents burning just as bad on the way up as they had going down.

"There we are now get it all up!" The hand on her shoulder migrated to the base of her skull, holding her hair out-of-the-way Soren realized rather hysterically, cursing as her stomach tried its damnedest to crawl up her throat once more. Once the worst of it appeared to be over, Soren found herself rolled back over and levered into a seated position away from her mess. Large eyes, green as fresh leaves in the spring studied her from beneath rather bushy eyebrows, appearing both concerned and curious.

"Well hello there!" The woman murmured, peachy lips curving into a small smile even as she wiped Soren's Face clean with a damp cloth. "I had started to think you weren't going to make it there for a little while."

"Who? Where?" Soren croaked, feeling and sounding as if she had swallowed a handful of broken glass. "Fuck! Not dead am I?"

"No you're most certainly not dead, although you gave it a good try!" Shaking her head, the woman held a water skin to Soran's lips, The liquid wonderfully cool against The raw skin of her throat. "And as for your questions, I found you nearly dead under this tree about a good half days walk from the village of Winterberry and my name is Lane. I am the closest thing the damn place has to a healer.

"Well so much for a peaceful death!" Soren thought, glaring daggers at the freckle splashed face in front of her, mind rapidly beginning to clear. " fucking humans!"

The woman, Lane, appeared not even slightly intimidated by this, bringing up one of her small hands to cradle Soren's Chin. "Dammit doesn't look like everything is quite out of your system yet... another dose of white honey it is."

"What would a simple human girl know about The effects of white honey?" Soren questioned, defensive growl made far less intimidating buy a sudden coughing fit.

Instead of getting angry, the human chuckled, dropping the water skin back by her side and thumping Soren on the back with surprising strength. "You Whitchers are all the same! Grouchy bastards. Also I'm 25 summers old in case you were wondering. Hey! How old are you anyway... 100?"

"80!" Soren replied, surprising herself. "Why the fuck is this human not running for the hills?"

Smirking the woman placed the back of one of her hands against Soren's forehead, The feel of smooth, cool skin irritatingly comforting.

"I patched up another of your kind after he got the shit beat out of him saving the ungrateful ass's of Winterberry from a pair of nesting griffins about two years ago now. He was laid up for about a week and I managed to get all my questions answered instead of taking what little coin my asshole of a husband, May his moldering bones be eaten by some particularly unpleasant creature, managed to part with as payment for the contract."

"Impossible!" Soren stated, clambering to her feet on unsteady legs. " men cannot be witches, their biological design is too inflexible for them to survive the mutations. 

Lane also scrambled to her feet, revealing herself to be rather slight in build, the top of her head barely reaching Soren's clavicle. "Pardon me, but unless you know some other sort of monster Hunter with yellow eyes, a pair of swords, a Silver medallion, and a very nice set of manly bits,then I’m pretty sure I know what I saw."

Soren didn't bother to reply, Turning away and staggering toward the opposite side of the fire where she could see her Pack, swords and armor piled in a heap, she could hear Lane’s surprisingly soft footfalls and smell the irritation in her scent as she followed close behind.

“And where exactly do you think you’re going?“ She asked, Tone strangely amused. “You’re not really in any condition to go traipsing about the countryside Whitcher, So I suggest you find a nice patch of grass and sit down before you fall down.“

Ignoring the human, Soren bent to retrieve her leather cuirass and the world tilted. She ended up on her hands and knees without entirely realizing how, stomach churning and head pounding.

“I’m going to say I told you so!“ Lane grumbled, Voice devoid of the mocking edge Soran had expected. “Come on now and drink the rest of the white honey, I know it’s unpleasant but it’s necessary.“

Reluctantly Sorin rolled herself into a seated position and excepted the half full vial of milky liquid offered to her. She wanted to bring herself to care about the fact that she was so weak and practically helpless in front of a human, but she couldn’t. Her sisters were dead, there murderers vanquished, and she was still alive. Alive and so, so alone.“

Time past uneventfully after that, Sorin’s violent vomiting fit soothed by gentle words and confident hands. She eventually gathered herself well enough to eat some bread, cheese, and wild berries offered to her, before curling up on top of her threadbare blanket and falling asleep. Her dreams were filled with the smell of death and decay, screams of those that had long been ripped from the world, and the site of Lena, bright, beautiful, burning Lena, fighting and cursing even as the life blood was draining from her.

“Why!“ Soren thought desperately upon waking, hot tears seeping slowly from closed eyes. “Why couldn’t I have just died alongside them?“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that’s it for this chapter and I hope you enjoyed. And in case you were wondering I don’t know what ton about which are canon aside from a little bit of the Witcher three and watching the Netflix TV show. so for most things I’m making it up as I go along, have a good vacation canon, 
> 
> Feel free to come debate with me on why I think women actually would have been able to survive the trials at higher rates than men, and why I think that the white honey potion would probably make which is Puke there guts up.
> 
> Until next time


	3. The first sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens as Lane learns a little bit more about her mysterious which are patient and Gets her good deed paid back in kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I updating this quickly you ask? Yes I am. This story and Lena have taken over the majority of my creative brain capacity and this is the result. I also threw a little Easter egg in there involving one of my favorite Disney movies. Let me know in the comments if anyone figures it out? Enjoy!

Lane woke up slowly to the sound of birds song and early morning light filtering down through the trees. Her night had not been a restful one, so worried about the Witcher was she. Slowly Lane pushed herself up and took a moment to once more study the woman. She was tall, taller than most men and her shoulders were broad, making for quite an impressive figure. She was not in top form though, far from it. Every inch of her was covered in some sort of dirt and the fact that she was still asleep proved just how deep her obvious exhaustion ran. The linen shirt and trousers Lane had managed to change her into once the fever had calmed practically swallowed her, skin stretched tight over far too many visible bones structures to be remotely healthy.

Lane had heard horror stories all her life, Wichers were supposedly heartless freaks of nature that had no emotions, mutants that wouldn't hesitate to rape and kill a woman if not given their coin. She knew from some amount of personal experience that these rumors were in fact nothing more than a gigantic pile of bullshit. The wolf whitcher from before had treated her with more decency than her husband ever had and Bad fever dreams could reveal a lot about a person. Her current patient tried valiantly to cover it up under General grouchiness and a rough exterior, but Lane was too familiar with the ways in which the dark cloak of grief settled over a person to be truly fooled. The Witcher was suffering from an injury to the heart, The worst kind of injury that only time could truly remedy.

"Are you quite done?"

The Witcher's deep alto nearly caused Lane to jump out of her skin in alarm. "Oh by Melitele's divine left nipple! Warn a woman would you?"

The Witcher simply smirked, amber eyes devoid of black and far clearer than they were the night before. Gracefully she rolled to her feet, appearing none the worse for wear despite drinking enough toxic shit to kill half the population of Novigrad. 

"How are you feeling?" Lane asked, scrambling fourth from her own blankets and walking over.

Much to her irritation, the Witcher didn't bother to reply, simply rolling up her blanket and strapping it to her pack.

Determined to get some type of reaction from the stony faced woman, Lane simply plowed ahead despite growing tension. "Tell me do you have a name oh silent one?"

"Aye!" The Witcher grumbled, stripping off her clothes as if Lane was not standing less then five feet away from her. Cursing she covered her eyes and turned away, but not before catching a good glimpse of a form that she couldn't help but be a bit envious of. Despite being under fed the Witcher woman was not at all lacking in Feminine appeal.

Well if I had any doubts about her being a woman before I sure as hell don't now!" Lane thought, feeling herself blush. "Never thought The strong silent type would do it for me!"

Upon daring to peak through her fingers, The Witcher was in her previous days clothes and armor, swords over her back and medallion gleaming against her chest. Lane had just enough time to think that she looked much better without poison running through her veins, before with a surprisingly virulent exclamation of "oh shit!" The Witcher was throwing herself forward.

Lane let out a screech as she was knocked to the ground, Sharp pain shooting up her right leg. “What the hell is wrong with you! Get off!“

The Witcher was already on her feet however, steel sword singing from its sheath as she sprinted with inhuman speed to the other side of the lytle camp. Standing partially hidden behind a tree was a dark-haired man with a bow in his hands, a bow that he tossed away in favor of turning tail to run. The Witcher was too fast however, grabbing him by the arm and slamming him into a tree with enough force to shake the branches.

"Start talking!" She growled, shining blade resting dangerously against the side of his neck. "What the fuck possessed you to try and shoot her?"

Confused Lane looked over her opposite shoulder to see an arrow sticking out of a tree at the right height to have pierced her in the neck.

“I’m sorry! Please have mercy!” The man sobbed, recapturing Lane’s attention.. “I thought she was a dear I swear it!"

The man shifted his terrified gays to Lane and she recognized him as one of the more worse off farmers that lived on the edge of the village. "Please Madame alderwoman everyone knows just how bad my eyes are!"

Groaning Lane pushed herself up on her knees and swiped unruly brown curls out of her face where they had come loose from her tie in the fall. "It's all right Hector, just be more careful next time! You can let him go Witcher."

Still glaring daggers at the unfortunate man, the Other woman stepped back, but did not put away her blade. Frantically Hector collected his bow and scurried off into the forest, disappearing just as quickly as he had come.

"Honestly some people!" Lane snapped, attempting to get to her feet and cursing when her right ankle protested sharply and buckled under her weight."Oh you cannot be serious!"

"What happened?" The Witcher was kneeling by her side in an instant,, placing sword down within easy reach and scrutinizing the offending appendage. 

“I think I fucked my ankle up good! It sprains at nothing these days!“

Rolling her eyes the Witcher returned blade to her back and jumped up to rummage around in her pack. She returned moments later with what appeared to be a role of bandages that had seen better days and a small piece of bark

"Well someone knows her medicinal plants!" Lane chuckled, gratefully excepting the bark and popping it into her mouth. "I do need to say thank you Whitcher... For not letting me become a human pin cushion."

Soren.” The Whitcher murmured, removing Lane's boot with practiced ease and examining the rapidly swelling appendage with a surprisingly gentle touch.

" what now?" Lane asked, forcing herself to stay still as pale hands expertly wrap the injury.

Brilliant amber eyes focused on Lane and the whitcher tilted her head in a reminiscent manner to a rather intelligent dog.. earlier you asked my name. I am Soren of Xin'trea“

“Well that was unexpected!“ Lane thought gleefully, unable to keep the bright smile from bursting across her face. “it is nice to meet you Sorin of Xin'trea.“

Soren’s only reply was a soft “don’t patronize me human!“ as she started efficiently packing up what little of Lane’s personal affects remained scattered about the camp.

Irritated and in pain, Lane opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it and simply watched as the Witcher prowled about the area. Much to her surprise, Lane watched as Soarin combined their belongings and had only a moment to contemplate the likelihood of being robbed Blind, before Soren was hurrying over and lifting her without effort into a bridal carry.

“What the hell are you doing?“ She yelped an alarm, grabbing onto broad shoulders in order to steady herself. “Where are you taking me?“

Soren’s lips curled up into that endearing little smirk once more, sending butterflies dancing around in the pit of Lane’s stomach. “If you wish to walk back to your village on that leg then be my guest, but I think we both know you won’t get very far.“

“You do have a point there!“ Lane grumbled, pulling herself up in order to press a fleeting kiss to Soren’s cheek. “I suppose this makes us even then, thank you.“

Looking forward to the ruckus her entrance would cause upon being carted into the village like she would be, Lane allowed herself to relax for what felt like the first time in forever.. True she hadn’t been able to gather as many herbs as she had wanted, but there would be other days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will try to update semi-regularly, although I make no promises with the way life and school happens. What do you Lovely readers think of Hector? Was he telling the truth? See you next chapter...


	4. Winterberry wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lane makes it back to Winterberry with Soren’s help and both Fixes and causes some chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I’m back with the next chapter within a reasonable timeframe and it’s a little bit longer to. So sorry Lena, but you don’t get to Arde me into the next century.
> 
> Just as a heads up there are some gruesome bits in this chapter but it could be worse. Enjoy!

The sound of a multitude of agitated voices underpinned by the pain wailing of a child jolted Lane roughly back to consciousness.

"What's going on?" she murmured, scrubbing hands over her face and blinking groggily up into a pair of amber eyes. "Soren?"

" you fell asleep." The Witcher replied, sounding strangely startled. "You fell asleep with me! carrying you?"

Lane felt heat rise to her face once more. "Sorry about that!" She chuckled, slightly embarrassed. " I have a bit of a pension for conking out almost anywhere, a product of life on the road I suppose."

Quickly she turned her head away in order to peek out from around the corner of the house they were sequestered behind, cursing under her breath at the site that greeted her. What appeared to be a good quarter of the entire village were crowded around the front of her house, obviously worked up over something. "Bloody hell! I leave the village for less than two days and calamity happens! Soren would you be a dear and help me over there please?"

The other woman made a non-committal noise in the back of her throat, but carried her fourth anyway. The first person to catch site of her in the Witcher's arms was of course Olga, The sharp eyed wife of the innkeeper and her foster mother of sorts.

"Oh good heavens! Lane darling what happened? Are you all right?" The middle aged woman pushed her way through the crowd, a frantic tornado of blue eyes and blond hair.

"I'm find Nana!" Lane reassured,, feeling Soren tents as more and more villagers turned toward the pair. "It is true I had a bit of a mishap, but the lady Witcher here was kind enough to help me get back home. "What happened here?"

Olga's already worried expression darkened further. "About an hour ago now young Tobias fell out of a tree and broke his leg. Clara and Bron are with him now, but from what I saw he's in a bad way and his mother and father don't appear to be helping matters much!" She pointed over her shoulder at the house where the yelling voices were suddenly punctuated by the sound of breaking glass. 

"Oh dear!" Soren murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Nana this might get ugly can you try to disperse this bunch so I can tend to the boy in peace?"

Nodding Olga reached out to squeeze her shoulder gently, before turning away and releasing a shrill whistle. "All right you lot! Lane is here now and she will better be able to take care of things without all of us underfoot. Get on now, go!"

Almost immediately the group of villagers started to disperse and Olga finally managed to Shepard them into Lane's house. The site that met her eyes was not a pretty one.

Lying on her healing table was none other than her nephew, leg twisted round at a very unnatural angle. Blood was everywhere and the boys mother was practically crouched over top of him, glaring daggers at a teary-eyed Clara, Who much to Lane's horror, had the unmistakable shape of a man's hand print branded in red over the pale skin of her left cheek.

The boys father and Bron, Olga's husband,had presumably come to blows over this occurrence, brawling like a pair of drunken idiots and demolishing everything breakable in there general vicinity.

"Everybody out!" She roared, practically trembling with suppressed rage." You fools should be ashamed of yourselves, now go finish pounding the daylights out of each other somewhere else. As for you Edna, go on outside with the men and let my apprentice do her damn job!“

Edna opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced via a raised hand from Lane. "If you want your son to stand a chance then you will get out of my way!"

Angry expression crumbling, the still crying woman rushed over into the arms of her husband, Who shot Lane a glare and hurried outside. Bron stayed just long enough to give a quick if sincere apology, before making himself scarce as well.

Lane allowed her self one deep breath to clear her thoughts, before jumping into action. "Clara I need you to get The suture kit, extra bandages, a Full flask of spirits, rope, and a plank. Have you given him any milk of the poppy yet?"

Expression Grimm, Clara pointed towards a puddle of White liquid surrounded by shards of glass. “I tried Mistress, but the crazy hag panicked and knocked it out of my hands... i’m sorry!“

Resisting the very unprofessional urge to spit out a List of rather potent obscenities in elder, Lane side. "No matter lass it happens to the best of us, but I don’t have another bottle prepared right now so we’re just gonna have to hold him down and hope we can get that leg in order.“

Clara’s already pale face turned positively ghostly, but she didn’t waver as she hurried off to gather the requested items.

Wincing in pain as she shifted her injured leg, Lane turned her attention to Soren. " thank you for all your help, but you can put me down now. Go see Nana at the Golden acorn, she can settle you until you're fully recovered."

Upon being set gently on her feet, Lane expected Soren to be off without another word, but the Witcher kept one bracing hand on her back as she limped her way over to the wash basin, redid her hair, wrapped a cloth apron about her waist, and plunged hands into the steaming water.

"I've seen such injuries before." She murmured, efficiently stripping off her gauntlets and Rolling threadbare sleeves up past her elbows. “I might be able to help.“

“Emotionless monsters my ass!” Lane thought gratefully, smiling up at Soren as she placed her swords down within easy reach and started vigorously scrubbing the grime from her skin.

After drying and cleansing her hands for a second time in distilled spirits, Lane made her way over to the still crying child on the table, smoothing curly bangs out of his clammy face with the back of her hand. "Hello Toby dear, can you hear me?“

“AuntieLane it hurts!” He sobbed, seeming partially delirious with fatigue and pain. "Make it stop! Please!“

Without warning the agonized expression on the boys face relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed, causing Lane to bend over him an alarm,

Don’t worry he’s fine.” Soren reassured, striding over on silent feet. “ I put The kid to sleep to keep him from making this any harder than it’s going to be.“

“ given that I can see bone sticking out of him where it shouldn’t be, I think that might be for the best.“ Lane admitted, hobbling around the table in order to get a better look at the injury. “I didn’t know Whitchers could do such a thing.“

Soren nodded, pulling a smaller table from the over and holding it fast as Clara arranged the various supplies. “Somne. It’s one of the lesser known signs of my guild and I know from experience that it works in situations like this.“

“I’m sure that comes in handy!“ Lane chuckled, eyes Focusing on the gruesome sight before her. “Clara I need you to clear away the blood and cleanse the wound. If it gets infected he won’t have a chance. Soren help me look for bone fragments and let’s pray to Melitele that it’s a clean break.“

Time meant nothing to Lane after that. as her World became blood, and bone, and skin. Larger hands, roughened from sword work helped to guide the wayward leg back into place, while smooth ones that trembled slightly fixed the newly straightened limb to the plank with careful precision. With practiced motions Lane stitched the wound closed, afterwards smiling tiredly around at her companions.

“I think that should do it...” She whispered, needle slipping from numb fingers, “Well done both of you!” Vision fading fast, Lane felt herself collapse backwards into a pair of strong arms and she knew no more.

The figure of a brown haired man with blue eyes flashed before her eyes, singing and playing the loot as he danced around a tavern full of boisterous patrons. The vision fractured and reformed itself to reveal a white haired man in black armor. He was leading a brown horse through a wooded area, upon which a blonde girl in a blue cloak sat huddled. Suddenly he turned toward her, Silver wolf medallion reflecting bright sunlight and forcing Lane to shield her eyes. Upon blinking the spots from her vision, Lane found herself inside a luxurious chamber where another man, also wearing a wolf school medallion, was flipping through a book. Unconsciously he rubbed at the severe scarring that disfigured the left side of his face, before smirking and shoving the book into a bag at his feet. The scene shifted yet again to a Field of golden wheat where yet another man with a wolf medallion stood. He was facing off sword drawn against the corpse of a woman in a light blue dress, furious expression contorting his features. Quick as lightning the Witcher charged, force blasting from his fingertips and sending Lane tumbling into darkness. Upon pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, she found herself in the middle of what once had obviously been a very grand library who’s chaotic state spoke of tragedy. Kneeling on a Old rug by the hearth was a gray-haired man, impressive musculature speaking of good health despite his advanced years. Slowly he got to his feet and walked over to pull a Book from a shelf and Lane blinked. The old man and the library disappeared just as quickly as they had come, a snowy courtyard and female figure with amber eyes taking their place. It was Soren, although not as Lane had ever seen her. The lady Witcher was wearing a dark blue dress trimmed with white fur and she looked healthy with honey blonde hair not darkened with filth. The grief and exhaustion weighing her down seemed to be absent and The more shallow hollows in her cheeks spoke of a far fuller stomach. Much to Lane’s astonishment, Soarin grinned down at her, gleeful expression completely rearranging the Witcher’s features and making Lane’s stomach flip pleasantly.

“Oh my!“ She thought flustered, unable to tear her eyes away from the site. “Is being stupidly attractive with a heart of gold a requirement for Wichers?“

Without warning Soren’s expression twisted with pain and she collapsed Face first to the ground, coughing violently.

“Soren! What’s wrong?“ Horrified Lane scrambled over and flipped the lady Witcher onto her back only to see her lips covered in scarlet blood. “Oh by Melitele!“

Frantically Lane turned Soren to her side, watching helplessly as she coughed up yet more blood and struggled to draw breath. Pale hands grasp desperately at her own throat and Soren’s body began to convulse. Lane felt hot tears stream down her face as she tried her best to keep the flailing which are from injuring herself further, frantically searching her mind for something, anything she could do to help.

Suddenly Soren went completely still under her hands, far too still and far too silent. Desperately Lane bent and placed an ear against her chest, hoping to hear The steady thump of a Whitcher slow heartbeat. For a few precious moments she held her breath, but cold, still silence was her only reply.

“Please no!“ She whispered, looking down into Soren’s pale face to see blood trailing from her nose, ears, and closed eyes, a gruesome parity of tears. “No!“

Sobbing Lane bolted upright, momentarily confused to find herself situated in a room on a bed, with no dead Wichers in site. Cursing she swung her legs over the side , screaming in terror as a hand locked around her ankle and dragged her to the floor. Within moments a hand was being clamped over her mouth and she struggled Weekly in her unknown assailants hold. She could feel her power come alive in response to the threat, even as footsteps pounded toward her room. There was no possible way any of this was going to end well for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? What’s going on with Lane? Find out in the next installment! I sure do love cliffhangers don’t you? Constructive criticism is always welcome and thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos I’m glad that you’re enjoying the story so far.
> 
> I’m also in the market for a beta reader if anyone is interested. I’m blind and use a screen reader to do all of this so editing can sometimes be a challenge and I can’t always catch everything. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter and see you next time... or well maybe not in my case, but you know what I mean.🤣
> 
> Later!!!

**Author's Note:**

> OK so what did you guys think? I know the first chapter is pretty short and I’ll try to make the next one longer. Does anyone know who is who yet? Let me know if you figure out who those names belong to in the original Witcher verse in the comments.
> 
> Until next time


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